


Tourniquet

by worrisomeme



Series: I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Depressed Steve, Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worrisomeme/pseuds/worrisomeme
Summary: Steve paces the studio while Bucky works at his desk. He’s been trying to get work done all morning, to no avail. His heart is racing and his chest is tight and he’s having a lot of trouble breathing. He’s not really sure why. He doesn’t feel particularly upset, he’s certainly not in one of his moods or anything, and nothing happened that would have triggered an anxiety attack. It just sort of… happened. But whatever it is, it’s been making it really fucking hard to focus.





	Tourniquet

Steve paces the studio while Bucky works at his desk. He’s been trying to get work done all morning, to no avail. His heart is racing and his chest is tight and he’s having a lot of trouble breathing. He’s not really sure why. He doesn’t feel particularly upset, he’s certainly not in one of his moods or anything, and nothing happened that would have triggered an anxiety attack. It just sort of… happened. But whatever it is, it’s been making it really fucking hard to focus.

He’s restless, running tattooed hands through his hair, looping a finger through the tunnels in his lobes and tugging nervously as he stares at the blank canvas on his screen, letting out little sighs from time to time. He gets up and goes over to lay down on the couch, gets up and paces, crouches down and laces his fingers behind his neck as he tucks his head between his knees and tries to breathe. Rinse and repeat.

Bucky’s noticed that something’s wrong and keeps glancing his way, but Steve hasn’t asked for his help so he keeps working for now. That’s their arrangement. Unless Steve asks for help, assume that any attempt will only rile him up more. The condition of that is that Steve has to actually ask when he does need it, and it’s worked so far, it really has.

The quick clack clack clack of the keys is kind of soothing to Steve, but it’s also a reminder that he has work he _should_ be doing and that thought really negates any positive affects it would normally have. Steve paces for another moment, his frustration quickly becoming rage in his chest, before he lets out a growl and drops to his knees next to Bucky’s chair. He whimpers quietly as he leans against his boyfriend’s leg, resting his head against his thigh.

Bucky’s fingers stop on his keyboard instantly and one hand drops to card through the blond’s hair. “What’s going on baby boy?” he asks quietly, tugging gently on those soft strands. They’re really starting to get long, he thinks somewhere in the back of his mind.

Steve feels the tension starting to drain away and he lets out a relieved sigh at the gentle tug. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “Just can’t breathe and my heart’s all fast and my thoughts are coming and going too fast.” He pouts a little. “I can’t focus.”

Bucky pushes Steve away gently just long enough to move his chair away from the desk. Then he tugs on his hair again briefly and pats his thigh. Steve instantly crawls up into his lap.

“Nothing triggered it?” Bucky asks, one arm wrapping firmly around his waist as his other hand comes up to press two fingers to the side of his neck, checking his pulse.

“Nuh uh,” Steve sighs, pout in full force now.

“Need your inhaler baby?” He massages small circles into Steve’s lower back and presses a soft kiss to his temple. “Sounds like a panic attack.”

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you though,” the blond replies, letting his eyes drift shut as his head falls to the older man’s shoulder. He blushes a little and mumbles a quiet, “Will… will you sing for me sir? Please?”

Bucky chuckles low and runs his free hand through his boyfriend’s hair. “Of course baby,” he says, and starts singing quietly in the younger man’s ear. He starts in Russian, but switches between languages every so often. Steve can feel his heartrate starting to slow finally, and with it his chest loosens and it becomes easier to breathe. He feels exhausted suddenly.

Bucky finishes two songs before he presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Feeling any better pet?” he coos.

Steve nods a little and whispers, “Yeah, mostly. Thank you sir.”

Bucky’s relieved but he’s seen this before and he knows that if they go back to working the attack will only come back in full force, if not worse. He knows just what to do, though, what his boy needs. “Your hair’s getting long,” he muses quietly, bringing a hand up to tug at the strands again.

Steve lets out a little whimper at the action and tips his head back a little. “You don’t like it?” he asks timidly, blinking those big blue eyes up at him.

Bucky lets out a hum and presses a kiss to his lips. “Didn’t say that,” he coos. Hell, he still keeps his own hair grown half-way down his back. “Just know you like to keep it shorter. Want me to cut it for you baby boy?”

The younger man blushes a little and dips his head, a small smile finally breaking out on his face as he nods. “if you don’t mind,” he says. “I know you’re busy sir.”

“I’ve gotten enough done today,” Buck reassures him, kissing the top of his head. “Go get everything set up, okay baby? I’ll be right in.”

Steve gives a definitive little nod thanks him quietly as he climbs out of his lap and makes his way to the bathroom.

Bucky finishes the sentence he was on and then saves and closes everything out for the night. He makes a quick stop in the bedroom before heading into the bathroom. When he does step into the bathroom Steve’s already waiting for him, shirtless and on his knees on a plush towel on the bathroom floor, the clippers and special hair scissors sitting out on the counter along with a comb.

The younger man lets out a soft whimper when he sees the collar Bucky sets on the counter, biting on his lip and tilting his head to expose his throat as he fights to keep his posture.

“That’s for later baby,” Bucky says, coming to stand behind him and running his hands through his boyfriend’s hair. He knows how much Steve needs the collar when he feels like this, how much it soothes and settles him. “It’d be hard to cut your hair with it, but I’ll put it on as soon as we’ve got you rinsed off, okay?”

Steve whimpers again and lets his head loll into his master’s touch, but he does manage a slight nod. “Yes sir,” he breathes.

“You want it cut like last time baby?” Bucky asks him, cupping his head in his hands and tilting it back upright.

Steve looks at himself in the mirror and lets out a thoughtful hum. “Maybe leave the top just a little longer this time,” he says, blushing a little and dropping his gaze.

Bucky smiles and watches him in the mirror for a moment. “Alright,” he says, running his hands through his boyfriend’s hair one more time before he gets started.

He works in silence for a while, just listening to the little sounds the blond makes, glancing in the mirror occasionally to notice how pink his normally pale skin has become, the way that flush is creeping down his chest. That smile still plays on his lips when, towards the end of the cut, he says softly, “You know baby, I’ve been thinking.”

Steve tenses a little and glances up to look at Bucky’s face in the mirror, trying to gauge where the conversation is going to go. “About what sir?” he asks.

Bucky makes his last snip and ruffles Steve’s hair, stepping around him with a little hum as he inspects his work. “Alright babe, looks good. Pants off and into the shower,” he instructs the younger man, reaching out to brush his cheek lightly.

Steve leans into the touch and lets out a quiet whine, but obeys. As he steps under the spray of the shower he can hear Bucky’s shirt drop to the ground and a moment later the brunet steps in to join him. He grabs his loofa and soaps it up.

Steve whines again softly, feeling anxious that Bucky had just cut off the conversation like that. But he trusts his master, his boyfriend, and knows he hasn’t forgotten, so he doesn’t say anything. Bucky smiles fondly at the noise and starts washing his boy gently.

“Behave kitten,” he says. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to his lips before going on, “I was just thinking, maybe it’s time you go see someone for all of this stuff.”

Steve gets defensive instantly, his whole body tensing as his lips curl into a scowl. He feels betrayed, like Bucky’s trying to get him to be ’normal’ like all the others had. Bucky, who knows how true mental illness feels and had sworn he would never try to change him. He was supposed to be different. He opens his mouth to argue but Bucky wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close.

“Let go,” Steve whines instead now, pounding on his chest half-heartedly.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” Bucky coos, pulling him closer and rubbing a hand along the small of his back. “I know what you’re thinking baby boy, same thing you thought when I suggested our arraignment. Remember? Am I right?”

Steve’s scowl slips back to a pout and he nods once, but doesn’t say anything.

“And I told you then what I’m telling you now. It’s not like that baby. But seeing a counselor and maybe trying medication wouldn’t hurt, right? You can always stop if you don’t like it.” Bucky backs his boyfriend under the water to rinse him off, pressing soft kisses to his jaw and neck as he goes.

Steve starts to relax under his ministrations and his words, tipping his head to expose more of his neck. He is making some good points, even if the depression doesn’t want him to see it that way. And, logically, he knows that’s exactly what it is. He knows enough about the illness to know that it twists everything. It wants to stay there, rooted in your brain and controlling every damn aspect of your life. He lets out a sigh and slowly runs his hands up and down along Bucky’s chest.

“You know I see someone,” he continues, pulling away now that he can feel Steve calming under his hands. He grabs the shampoo and spins Steve around so he can lather up his hair. “We can get you in with someone in the same office if you want. There’s a psychiatrist there, too.”

Steve lets his eyes drift shut and moans softly at the feeling of the fingers on his scalp. “There’s one problem,” he breathes, keeping his eyes closed as his boyfriend guides him under the water again.

When all the soap is out of his hair Steve finally tilts his head up and blinks his eyes open, a frown tugging on the corners of his lips. “And what would that be sweetheart?” Bucky grabs the conditioner and starts rubbing that through Steve’s hair now.

The blond sighs as he looks into his boyfriend’s eyes. “I don’t have insurance. You know how expensive that shit is without it. I don’t make that kind of money,” he mumbles.

Bucky’s face scrunches up slightly in thought and stays that way while Steve rinses his hair out. When he’s done they both get out and he dries his boyfriend off before grabbing the collar. Steve slips to his knees without having to be asked, and he sees the older man’s face light up.

Bucky quickly unbuckles the collar and slips it around Steve’s neck. As he fastens it he tries to school his expression and casually suggests, “We could just get married. Then you’d be eligible under my insurance.”

“W-what?!” Steve sputters, his heart racing in his chest again now and suddenly he can’t breathe again. Bucky slips the latch on his collar closed and tugs on it gently, a signal for the other man to stand up. “What’d you just say?” the blond breathes even as he obeys.

“I said we could get married,” Bucky replies, crooked smile firmly on his face. “If you want to, I mean. If not, I don’t want you to just for the insurance,” he chuckles. “We can always figure something else out.”

Steve barks out a laugh, in complete disbelief as he shakes his head. “That was the least romantic way to ask someone to marry you _ever_ ,” he says through his laughter.

And Bucky can’t help it, he starts laughing too. “Well, we can have a proper proposal and wedding later,” he says, resting his hands on Steve’s hips and pulling him closer. “Right now, this is more important. And anyway, we’re not exactly a traditional couple, now are we?” he teases.

 

*

 

That’s how they end up getting married at the courthouse a week later with Natasha, Clint, Angie, and Peggy as their witnesses. And _that_ is how they end up in the waiting room of Bucky’s counseling center a month later, Steve’s knee bouncing nervously as he sits in the chair. He chews on his lips and fidgets with his hands. He pulls his phone out and flicks through pages of apps, then closes it again without actually opening any of them or doing anything at all.

“ _Calm down my love_ ,” Bucky coos in French. He rests a hand on Steve’s knee and rubs his thumb gently along his thigh. He’s reading an article on his phone and doesn’t look up, but a soft smile does spread across his face. “ _It’ll be okay. I promise.”_

Steve whines high in his throat and fidgets some more. Finally he pulls out his phone again and starts flipping through the apps. He opens Tumblr, then closes it before it can even load properly, repeating the process with Instagram, Facebook, and several random games. Has it really only been five minutes? Christ, he feels like he’s going to grow old and die in this waiting room. This _hot_ waiting room. Why is it so fucking hot in here? Maybe he’s _already_ died and this is Hell. That _would_ make more sense.

He doesn’t even notice he’s starting to hyperventilate as he runs one hand through his hair, then the other, tugging at the strands and the tunnels in his lobes and rubbing his hands over the once again freshly-shaved sides and back.

Bucky locks his phone and tucks it in his pocket for now. He turns and rests on hand on the blond’s chest firmly, the other loops a finger through the collar he’d insisted on wearing and tugs gently. They both know they’re drawing stares, but they don’t care. Steve is too nervous about the appointment and the only thing Bucky cares about right now is making sure that his boy is okay.

“ _Breathe Stevie,”_ he says, still in French, just above a whisper. “ _I need you to calm down for me, okay? Take deep breaths. Be a good boy for me now. Just like that, good,”_ he coos as his husband nods quickly, the fidgeting stopping instantly and he starts to notice his breathing, to slow it down. “ _That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.”_ He smiles and presses a soft kiss to the other man’s cheek, letting his hands fall. He catches Steve’s in one of his own and turns so he’s sitting proper in the chair again.

“Thank you sir,” Steve whispers in English into his ear, pressing a kiss to his jaw before resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. He still doesn’t really feel better, but he knows he’s not going to pass out now, so he’ll take it.

“Any time baby,” Bucky whispers back, kissing the top of his head softly. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

The brunet can’t help the big, goofy grin that crosses his face hearing those words. He still can’t believe this beautiful man has chosen him. He pulls out his phone and that smile stays put as he goes back to his article. At his side, Steve lets his eyes slip shut and focuses on taking nice deep breaths.

The blond tenses every time the door opens and he bites his lip when his name is finally called. He blinks up at Bucky and searches his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest again.

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Bucky assures him, cupping his face in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Just be honest with her. She can’t help you if you’re not one hundred percent honest.” Steve’s jaw sets in determination and he gives a quick nod. Bucky squeezes his hand gently and smiles at him. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” Steve replies, squeezing his husband’s hands one last time before sucking in a deep breath and pushing himself out of the chair.

 

*

 

Bucky is still reading something or another on his phone when Steve pushes his way back into the waiting room, nervously shoving a prescription and appointment card into his pocket. He feels a little better now that it’s over, but not much. Now he’s got another medication to add to the list and nerves bubbling up at the thought of speaking to his actual counselor, who he’ll meet at his appointment in two days. He stops in front of his husband and tries to smile as sweetly as he can, clasping his hands behind his back as he waits for him to finish the sentence he’s reading.

Bucky locks his phone and meets Steve’s eyes, his lips curling into a lopsided grin as the blond holds a hand out to him. “Ready to go?” he asks, taking the offered hand and standing up.

“Yes sir,” Steve replies, lacing their fingers together and tugging on Bucky’s hand gently.

The brunet gives a wave to the receptionist as he lets Steve pull him out the door. “So how was it?” he asks.

“Not so bad,” Steve replies with a little shrug. “She gave me a script, said it won’t interfere with any of my other stuff, minimal side effects and all that.”

“That’s good,” Bucky says softly. He’ll read the info over when they get it home later and he makes a mental note to add it to the list he keeps on his phone.

As they make their way toward home ad their usual pharmacy, Steve tells Bucky how weird it was talking about some of that stuff with a stranger, being analyzed and everything. Bucky laughs and agrees, tells him it’ll feel even more weird when he gets with his counselor and they really dig into the nitty gritty stuff. Weird, but nice, he assures him.

They drop the script off and decide to wander as they wait the twenty minutes for it to be filled, browsing all the cute decorations the store just got in for spring. Steve stops abruptly in front of a row of fairy houses and Bucky jerks backward where they’re still holding hands.

“Something wrong love?” he asks the smaller man, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

Steve smiles and shakes his head a little before nuzzling into the touch. “I just wanted to say thank you,” he says quietly. “For talking me into doing this. It’s scary, but it feels good to know I’m working on getting better. For both of us, you know?”

Bucky’s grinning from ear to ear as he takes the step forward to close the distance between them. His free hand rests on his husband’s hip as he kisses him soft and slow and sweet. “I will always be here for you Stevie,” he replies. “I’ll always take care of you. I love you _so_ much.”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Kudos, comments, and all of that fun stuff is so greatly appreciated! It's what keeps me writing<3 Love you guys!
> 
> [tumblr.](http://worrisomeme.tumblr.com)


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